Could Have Been
by The-Mist-In-Your-Lungs
Summary: MelloxMatt songfic to Champagne by Cavo. Rated M for language and minor lemon. Matt's POV.


AN- Hey, this is Mist. This is my first fanfic on FF for...a long, long time. It is a songfic, which I wrote just because songfics tend to be notoriously bad. I enjoy challenges.

Mello, Matt and Death Note do not belong to me. I just twist them to suit my perversions.

Champagne is by Cavo and also does not belong to me.

Rating- M, for language and some...abstractish sex. I hope you enjoy the story.

* * *

I just expected him to be with me. Forever sounds cliche, but that's what I thought.

_I need you_

He'd always be by my side, barking at me and getting me into trouble. He and trouble go together better than he and I did.

_Here with me_

And one day he wasn't there.

He was gone.

L was dead, Near was catatonic and Mello had left me alone for the first time since we'd known each other. I gave up on everything that day.

Mello was everything. He consumes everything in his path. I'm just tinder for his flames.

_Don't take this_

I thought he was gone for good. But late one night I get a call.

It's that voice I've been craving for years, the voice I hear when I go to sleep.

But it's a ghost of Mello.

"Matt, I need you," it rasps.

_Too far now_

Speeding to his aid. He's in an alley somewhere. He might be dying. I have to find him.

My car alternatively purrs and growls, angry with my rough desire to find Mello.

_Your eyes seem_

It seems like hours, but I find him.

_So lonely_

He's drifting in and out of consciousness, whimpering. Mello never whimpers.

_Inside you_

"Matt..."

"I'm here. Don't talk."

There's blood everywhere. I can worry about his wounds after I get him off the dirty street. I scoop him into my arms and carry him to the passenger seat. I don't bother with his seat belt. He has a greater chance of dying from his wounds than in a car accident.

For once, I'll trust fate.

_Feel like you lost your mind_

He hallucinates the whole drive back. I wonder what he's talking about: he's reverted back to German.

His native tongue, I guess. I never knew what it was, he's fluent in so many.

I feel like the nurse at Einstein's bed side.

_Coulda been the champagne_

And now he's grabbing the rosary that clings to his neck. It's a miracle it survived the blast.

"Hail Mary, Mother of God...be with us sinners...Now, and...and at..."

_The champagne_

"And at the hour of our death," I supply, my voice barely above a whisper.

Mello dying. It can't be real. I swing into my driveway and leap out of the car. Mello groans in my arms all the way to my bathroom. I sink into the bathtub and run cold water. I cradle him as the tub fills.

Mello almost shrieks when the water touched his flesh. I shush him patiently.

_Coulda been the cocaine_

"You're okay," I repeat over and over.

Neither of us are convinced.

Mello claws my arms while I wash him, wreaking hell on my body. "It burns...it fucking burns, Matt...!"

_The cocaine_

His left side is almost beyond recognition. His hair, so long and beautiful, has become an army of miniature lances that catch in his burns. His eyes find mine for a moment.

He's so beautiful right now, it scares me.

He can't die right after I've found him again.

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

That leather he's so fond of is burned into his skin. I have to cut it away from his skin, inch by painstakingly inch.

Mello passes out, thankfully. He doesn't need to experience anymore pain.

_That told me we were through_

He's still out of it when I go out to get bandages, and when I come back with heaps of them. He's out for the hours I spend covering his burns. He stirs while I have him propped over my shoulder. He's burnt all down to his stomach.

"Mello, one day, you have to tell me what the fuck you did."

I can feel him smile.

_And I miss you_

"I wish you were a priest, Matt," he coughs. "I need Last Rites."

I shake my head. "You won't die."

More dry laughter. More choking. "Better now than later.

"That's not funny."

_All day now_

I lay him back, and he winces as his back connects with the bed. "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...I will fear no evil, for Matt is with me."

I grin. He's definitely had a brush with death, to talk like that.

_I'm screaming_

I turn to leave. He needs meds. He's in so much pain, he can't even scream now. His vocal chords are trashed. "I'll see if I can find some p-"

His hand wraps around my wrist so easily, painfully. My wrist creaks in protest. I look down at this dishevelled mess of a man.

This man who was my best friend.

_Inside out_

"Matt, don't leave me."

His blue eyes, begging me. Needing me. I smile reassuringly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

_Don't tempt me_

That moment passed. Thousands of moments ago. At this moment, we're both in the back-alley outside of a seedy club: it's the only place where we can really blend in. He's pissed at me again. I stared too hard and long at some chick. It doesn't help that we're both a little wasted.

He won't scream at me here, but he's been cursing me out for ten long minutes. I'll have a bruise in the shape of his hand encircling my arm come morning. It will be like a tattoo. Or a brand.

"If you don't want me flirting, do something about it!" I hiss at him when he finally stops to draw breath. There's a moment where I can almost hear his mind work around this thought. His snarl becomes a smirk. He shoves me against the wall and whispers in my ear. Good idea.

The brick wall is scraping my back to hell, but I tense against it anyway. His breath on my skin is tantalizing. Maybe I'm asking for the pain. Maybe this is me at my most masochistic.

_Cause I'll break you_

"You asked for this," he reminds me hoarsely, forcing my hands over my head and sinking his teeth into the side of my neck. My eyes screw up and I squeak like a fucking chew toy. He wants to draw blood, just to test my limits. He wants to know how far he can take me before I give in. My mouth becomes just a line. He can't make me scream.

I'm not going to let him break me down again.

_I don't need this_

I could be in the arms of some tender, sweet-as-pie girl right now. Instead, I'm being teased and tormented by a kid who used to fight with me during recess. So why is my breath so ragged? I could fight back if I wanted, but somehow I barely have the strength to stand.

Mello laps up the blood he's drawn, like a kitten lapping up milk. His tongue drags over my jugular, and for a moment, I'm scared to death he ll tear my throat. Then he laughs and he presses up against me.

"Something wrong?"

His tone is so casual, it s almost like he really cares.

_And I'll burn this whole thing down_

I shiver. He laughs again and lets me go. You're a fool, Matt. Even for number 3. He turns away from me, probably wanting to leave the alley as soon as possible.

I grab him and pull him back. He stares at me for a moment before pressing me back against the wall and crushing his lips against mine. I don't fight him.

After all, I asked for it.

_Coulda been the champagne_

His tongue rips through to clash with mine, his hand forcing my jaw to open and grant him access. He never loses control. I'm the one melting.

I tell myself this, this is why I don't drink.

_The champagne_

But by the time Mello lets me breathe again, I've started wondering why I haven't gotten drunk with him before. I'm literally shaking. He hasn't even twitched.

And that smirk. Always that same damn smirk.

"Matt, you look all hot and bothered. But in those clothes, I can hardly wonder why."

_Coulda been the cocaine_

Oh no, he isn't getting the best of me again. Not this time. I slide my vest off before as he has a chance to reach for the zipper. His smirk widens; his hand strokes the thin material of my shirt, brushing the fabric against my chest. He shoves his hip between my legs and forces them apart. Then he presses against me and I can t help but moan.

It's something I can't fight, let alone beat.

_The cocaine_

My head falls and I try to look anywhere but him. His lips graze my cheek, and I can feel them move as he speaks. "Afraid to look at me?"

I know he's smirking, but his words are cold. He's not being playful anymore.

"Afraid of what you'll see if you look at my face, Matt? If you look at who's pressed against you like a common whore?"

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

I'm not afraid at all. I open my eyes and meet his gaze full-on. He observes me for a moment, silent. And then it's business as usual for tonight: his lips commanding mine, his hands roaming all over, his body firm against mine.

_That told me we were through_

We're in an alley.

We're fugitives.

One of us is wanted by Kira, the deadliest person alive in this world.

We can't do this.

_It coulda been a bad day_

I can't stop him. I don't really want to. It's not as if I've longed for him to ravish me, not like I've secretly desired his love.

I don't think this is love.

I think this is ownership.

_A bad day_

Again we break for air, and Mello steps back to stare at me for what seems like the hundredth time.

"What?" I ask in exasperation. Christ, it looks like he's staring at my crotch.

He is. He even points at my arousal; it's admittedly hard to miss. "Did I do that to you?" he asks, looking very serious.

"Of course you did."

_Coulda been the real way_

"Of course I did? Of course?" His eyes lift up to my face. If there was blood left to rush to my face, I would have blushed.

"Yeah. Sorry to offend you, but you've been rubbing against me for a while now. I couldn't exactly repress my reaction."

He smirks again, as if I've just said yet another stupid thing during class.

"Never repress anything. Never suppress-" He cups my groin. "-how you feel."

_The real way_

His fingers fumble with my belt while I fish for excuses to make him slow down. "Mello, Jesus, think about where we are!"

He tugs the belt free and my pants instantly sag a little. They cling shamelessly to my waist. "We're in a back-alley, free of strangers and completely alone. If someone sees us-" He tugs down my zipper and forces my pants down.

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

He starts to lower himself, but I do some quick-thinking and grab his hair. Before he can make a sound, I pull him up to kiss me again. His fingernails dig into my hips; they draw more blood from crescent-moon cuts. His teeth come down on my lower lip, but I want his mouth to stay where it is.

His hands move to grab my ass, and he yanks me against his crotch. Hard. I groan.

_That told me we were through_

He pulls back, my blood on his lips. "Learning to fight back? I have to punish you for that." He pins me to the wall. I don't fight anymore. He'll never let me win. He kisses the corner of my mouth softly before kneeling down. "I'll try to be gentle with you."

I lean my head back and play with his hair while he slowly pulls my boxers down and hovers over me. Once again, his breath is dancing on my skin.

That's what started this.

_I wish you_

This could be Mello's first or fiftieth time giving head. I dunno if he's lain with men before; if he's just going by instinct and maybe some pornos for references.

But he's good enough for me. Unbelievable, actually. I'll let him hear me moan, a reward for his efforts.

But I want a lot more from him.

_Would take from me_

His fingers drag down my stomach to my thighs while he tongues my flesh. His hair is soft between my fingers, and I stroke his head tenderly. My legs are so tense and my stomach is clenching.

The fact that it's Mello is enough. I ought to be dreaming this, because I would never have believed Mello would get down on his knees for anyone.

For me.

_Everything I cannot be_

I'm choking on words. Instinctive, mewling sounds replace the human babble that's sticking to my throat. I throw my head back so hard it smacks the wall. I can feel Mello laughing while I can't feel the sting of my injuries.

His tongue dances all around me while mine hangs out uselessly.

_With eyes so blind_

I want to look into his eyes again. He should tear me apart with his intensity. I think I might beg him to.

He's too busy right now, on his knees before me. I'm at my peak, but I doubt he'd shy away. Mello finishes what he starts, no matter what it is.

And he's good at it.

_You cannot see_

Instead of white light and absence of sound- what I generally expect from orgasm- my mind is black and filled with Mello's voice. Things he said when I'd first brought him back from the brink of oblivion. Things he whispered during a fever; things he yelled in anger; things he said out of nowhere, completely nonchalant.

_That I won't ever leave_

"If you were smart, you'd have left me to die."

"If you were smart, you'd leave now."

"If you were smart, you'd leave me alone and never look back."

But I'm not smart, Mello. That's your department.

_Coulda been the champagne_

He kisses my jaw to bring me back to our reality. I open my eyes to find his scarred face inches from mine. Those blue eyes are always so intent. Like a hunter catching his prey. He brushes my damp bangs away from my forehead. "Deep breaths," he says, his tone chastising.

_The champagne_

I want to smack him for that.

I want to please him the way he s pleased me.

I want to be his dog. Just let him put a collar and leash on me.

I don't care. I'm not ashamed.

I'm proud to be his toy.

_Coulda been the cocaine_

As long as he provides this experience a little more often.

The chemicals running through me now are better than any drug, natural or synthetic.

And knowing that he's the catalyst for it all is overwhelming. It's a realization that carries its own rush.

_The cocaine_

"You owe me."

I nod. "I owe you."

I don't know how exactly I'll pay him back, but I have an idea.

It's the ice of his eyes that tells me I'm right.

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

I don't know why, but I touch his face. More specifically, his scars.

His body goes rigid. I haven't touched there since I first bandaged him up. For days, he would scream bloody murder if I just looked at him. I've never gotten close enough to touch the scars until tonight.

_That told me we were through_

His skin feels like paper. He winces when I lay my palm against his cheek.

I don't know if it's pain or fear that makes him shrink away.

But he's not in control now. I am.

_It coulda been a bad day_

"Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head. "No. Doesn't mean you can touch me there, though."

My eyebrow rises. "So I could touch you somewhere else, but I can't touch your face."

He slaps my hand away. "No. You can't." His words are clipped and he won't meet my gaze. Yes, the tables have turned. But I don't think I like being in control. This game's too much for me to understand.

_A bad day_

"Zip up your pants. You're such a fucking slob."

I pull them back above my waist, but I glare at him. It's his fault they're not perfectly fastened. I fix myself, then look back at him expectantly. "Mello, where's my belt?" He shrugs. "I have to keep track of everything you own?" He just wants to get home so I can- what was the phrase? Pay him back.

All work and no play pisses Mello off.

_Coulda been the real way_

I rummage around the ground until I find it, and I loop the belt again.

"Pointless. You'll have to take it off when we get back to your place. Why bother?"

"Because of the forty-five minutes between here and there. Why bother bothering me about it?"

Why bother bothering me, period?

_The real way_

He tears the keys away from me. If anyone else had tried that, I would have punched them. But Mello doesn't even have to ask to drive my prized vehicle. I've never insisted on driving him; it's just been the other way around.

I haven't driven him anywhere since the night I found him.

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

He won't look at me.

So I think of how he looked then. He only called me because, for once, he did need me. He didn't want me around. I was just handy. I was someone he could trust in a pinch.

Even if I had been holding a grudge against him.

_That told me we were through_

"Why can't I touch you?" I ask again while he's doing 65. He could willfully kill us at this speed, a fact I might have accidentally overlooked.

"Because I said you couldn't. Drop the subject."

"God, you're such an adult. All the adults at Whammy, they'd say that too. Remember? Because I said s-"

"Matt, would you shut your mouth for five goddamn minutes? I at least put my mouth to good use. You should do the same!"

_Coulda been the champagne_

My high-strung master, who looks so feminine, people don't regard him as a threat until it's too late.

My friend, who has probably killed someone just for the hell of it, yet takes my quirks in stride.

I let him win because he wants to.

But this time, I want to win.

I want to touch him.

_The champagne_

"Pull over."

He actually looks over at me, disbelieving.

_Coulda been the cocaine_

"Mello, pull over my goddamn car before I take the wheel myself."

He sneers even as he complies; we come to a stop in the middle of a field that's mostly dirt and dead grass. "Matt, you better-"

I'm not letting him finish. I tear off my seat belt and I launch myself into his lap, covering his mouth with mine. I swallow his protests, I bury his resistance. My hand brushes the hair from his face and roams of his cheek.

Self-consciousness be damned.

He is mine.

_The cocaine_

He shoves me away, and my back connects painfully with the steering wheel. "Get off me!" he snarls.

"I'm not going anywhere," I tell him, wincing.

"Get off me, or I'll throw you out and leave you here!"

"No, you won't." I kiss him again.

_Coulda been the champagne_

He won't kiss back, but I'm not letting him go. I straddle his waist and force his head back. I'll make him kiss me the way he made me kiss him. I can only be his loyal dog for so long.

After all, he needs me.

_The champagne_

Whoever said it's nice to be needed was a lying bitch.

Mello needed me to be his back-up when we were kids.

He needed me to save his ass when he was in trouble.

Now he needs me to just be a quick fuck. A nice way to unwind after a day of espionage.

Fuck that.

I want him to want me. I want him to crave everything about me. Something is making me a possessive monster, and he is my treasure to guard.

_Coulda been the cocaine_

He groans into my mouth as I rub against him. His fingers find their familiar imprint on my hips. He's finally submitting to me. His mouth opens under mine. I moan into his mouth and press harder against him.

He groans and clutches my back.

With that, I let him go, eager to catch my breath.

"You're persistent," he manages to mutter.

"Yeah."

"You become more like a dog every day, Matt." I nod.

"I love my master very much," I reply seriously.

_The cocaine_

"Yeah?" His hand brushed the back of my neck, the nails scraping my skin with utmost care.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for you, Mello. You know that I would."

"I do." His breathing sounds so final and depressed. "It's your worst feature."

_Coulda been the way you looked at me_

"It's the only way you'd have me." My eyes stare into his, the cold truth binding us and tearing us apart all at once. "You wouldn't need me any other way."

"Perhaps. But needing isn't wanting." My words on his tongue.

"You don't want me?"

I can't help the tremor in my voice. This was what I was afraid of.

_That told me we were through, through_

Mello rolls his eyes. "Get off me, already. You wanted to prove a point, right?"

I sigh in defeat and climb back to my seat. I strap in and Mello turns the key in the ignition. My car roars back to life.

"Matt, what do you want?"

My throat is on fire. I don't know if I can speak properly just yet. But Mello won't be kept waiting for my answer. I take a deep breath.

"What you want, Mello. Always what you want."

_We were through_

He sets his foot on the gas. Never looks me in the eye.

"I want you alive, Matt. I want you safe."

_Now we're through_


End file.
